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Jun 2013
As I look out my window,
To the dark street,
Lit by the street lamp,
Everything seems so sad.
As if the trees
Are crying.
And as though the grass
Is dying.
Even as if I am sad.
Sitting here,
Watching the trees
Blow side to side,
I wonder how they feel.
They can never move,
Can never explore.
And I realize,
I am like the trees.
jackie
Written by
jackie
566
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